


Several Steps Closer

by mansikka



Series: Too Far [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6514309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heat of the leather seat beneath him is reassuring, and comforting, letting him feel as though he is wrapped in a cocoon of sorts, that is halfway between protecting and home. </p><p>It is an odd thing to feel, Cas thinks to himself, looking out of the window and through his fingers that flex as though they are catching the very air he is feeling rush between them as the Impala heads down the open highway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Several Steps Closer

The heat of the leather seat beneath him is reassuring, and comforting, letting him feel as though he is wrapped in a cocoon of sorts, that is halfway between protecting and home.

It is an odd thing to feel, Cas thinks to himself, looking out of the window and through his fingers that flex as though they are catching the very air he is feeling rush between them as the Impala heads down the open highway.

Odd, because protection is the last thing an angel should feel they are needing. And odd, because this metal frame, with its sharp edges, fragile glass, and delicate rubber grinding away on the road beneath it is anything but a safe place to be, if the situation is to be looked at purely logically.

There are all sorts of odd things Cas has come to feel over the past few years, he reminds himself. Including  _ feeling _ in the first place.

Dean catches his eye in the rearview mirror and offers him a flicker of a smile, which Cas returns easily. They're several steps closer and at the same time at least a mile back from being 'resolved' in their issues with one another. But there has been a little shift between them that has unstifled the air, and untensed their stances around one another.

It is a start.

When they had woken together that morning, the gap between them was much narrower, with Dean, and himself too, if he was honest, unconsciously shifting towards each other during the night. It had felt torturous rolling back and away from him, but Cas took a small comfort in seeing that same difficulty reflected back from Dean's face.

The shortest of discussions had been had with Sam, and Cas had stumbled his way out to the car, insistent that he do at least that for himself whilst Sam and Dean packed up some things for the road.

And here they are now, a comfortable-enough silence between them all, with music on low in the background and a few snacks to keep their stomachs quiet as they make their way along the road.

Cas dozes off; he has fragments of dreams that are almost as alien to him as the other human things he is growing a little more used to. Not that angels don't dream; but much as everything else that differs between angel and human, they are so very  _ different _ . Vivid yet not vivid, bright but somehow soft around the edges. And without emotion, or memory, or even much of any thought.

Currently, Cas dreams human, and it is perhaps one of his oddest experiences yet. Because of course, he dreams about Dean, and the Dean in his dreams is warm, and welcoming, and  _ willing _ , in an entirely different way than the 'real' Dean probably would ever be. The Dean of his imagination never pushes him away, never acts without thought, and every word that spills from  _ this _ Dean's mouth is nothing but what Cas wants to hear.

It is hard to separate one from the other, and it makes Cas take even longer to respond to either version of Dean sometimes, just to make sure he's getting it right.

Like now for instance; the car is parked, his door is open, and Dean is crouched down beside him outside, looking up at him in concern. Is this one the real one or the imaginary one, Cas asks himself as he tries to gather himself together.

_ Dean _ hesitates when he reaches over to Cas, gently holding on to his arm as though to reassure himself Cas is still there.

I am awake, Cas confirms to himself, staring down at the back of Dean's hand.

“You okay?” Dean says softly, and for a moment Cas wonders what he's missed. But he takes in the view of a home and a dirt track beyond the car door, and thinks maybe Dean's just waking him up because they have arrived at their destination.

“I am,” Cas assures him with a yawn, stretching as much as is possible in the back seat.

“So, we're here,” Dean tells him, standing up himself and offering out a hand to help Cas out of the car. Cas doesn't hesitate; he takes Dean's hand, lets him pull him upright, then squeezes his fingers in thanks, resting his free hand on Dean's side as he steadies himself.

Neither one of them look away or move for a moment, and there's a charged sort of tension between them as they stare.

“You okay to move?” Dean asks eventually, and closes the door behind Cas as Cas propels himself forward, step after heavy step.

He's getting better, so much better, he really is. It's just taking so much  _ time _ , and time's not something Cas is used to needing when it comes to recovering from the rare things that have afflicted him.

Cas isn't sure how it happened. He woke from his sleepless nightmare in that motel room, adamant that the moment he was able, possibly even before that, that he would leave; put as much distance between himself and Dean as he could, and try to forget everything.

But Cas found that he couldn't. Or not that he couldn't, but that he didn't want to. He wanted to be around Dean, he wanted to have one last attempt at solving the riddle that was his draw to him. And the more he got to see of Dean with his defences down, the stronger that pull was.

Cas admits to himself that he feels divided. Straddling a self-inflicted 'line' where one side of him is all angel, and the other is, well. Not exactly human, but as close as is possible.  _ Angel Cas _ would be devoid of emotion almost; warrior first, free will thinker second.  _ Almost-human Cas _ would be weak, devoid of his powers yet full of... life.

If he's honest with himself, Cas finds that he wants something in between the two possibilities. Because, and if he's being even more honest with himself now, he wants the best of both worlds. Which comes down to two, pretty simple things. He wants his grace. And he wants  _ Dean _ .

But now is not the time to be thinking that, he scolds himself, focusing all of his energy instead on walking beside Dean down a small uneven path that leads to a barn, and over to where Sam is standing with a man Cas doesn't recognise, both of them with their backs turned to him.

When he approaches, Cas looks down at what they're seeing: a woman possibly in her mid forties, curled up on her side on the cold, bare floor, eyes staring unseeingly, and nothing to suggest that she can move. The man walks around the other side of her, crouches down, and pushes up her shirt to reveal a messy wound that has healed over in a long, thick jagged line of green-black.

Cas takes in the bruises along her lower back, upper arms and face, the grazed area to her cheek, and feels himself surge. Without a single thought, he is gripping the man tightly by his neck, dragging him to his feet, and squeezing hard.

“What have you done?” he seethes, becoming more angry the more the man thrashes in panic for his freedom.

“Cas,” Dean urges quietly beside him, and after a beat Cas releases the man, finding with the withdrawal of his anger goes also his strength. He sways; Dean is there to catch him, and Cas lets him loop an arm around his shoulder, leaning heavily into his side for support.

When the man, who Sam's now half-introducing as Josh, has regained his breath enough to look back at Cas fearfully, Cas glares, then clears his throat.

“These injuries. You have inflicted on her,” he growls out, and Josh cowers back from him.

“I didn't know. I thought she was a demon,” he protests, bringing his arms up as though to shield himself.

“Was that before or after you checked?” Dean asks quietly, in a tone that comes across as pointed, and dangerous.

“I-” Josh begins, looking between them all in increasing alarm, “I... tried holy water, and touched her hand with a silver cross, and there was nothing, so-”

“So there was no indication that she was demon, yet you continued to beat her?” Cas finishes, and it would have been more terrifying if he hadn't yawned the moment the words were out, letting his head drop onto Dean's shoulder.

“I...” Josh tries again, finding that he is unable to defend himself, or understand much of what he is seeing.

“Word to the wise? Don't piss off an angel, Josh. Even a powered-down one,” Dean laughs bitterly, squeezing Cas a little tighter as he sags more into his side. “He's gonna need to rest again in a minute,”

Josh looks Cas up and down, pursing his lips together before glancing down at the woman he has essentially discarded on the floor. “So. He was... like that?” he asks doubtfully, as though he is unable to imagine it for himself.

“Yeah,” Sam confirms, “Only we didn't kick him about. We helped him. Tried to clean up his wound, watched over him-”

“How was I supposed to know?” Josh is protesting again at an ever higher decibel. He swallows nervously as three pairs of eyes train back on him in utter disapproval.

Cas is the first to look away, glancing down at the angel prone on the floor at their feet. “The vessel... the human. She is gone.”

Josh sucks in a worried breath. “I didn't-”

“It was not you,” Cas agrees, frowning. “It is... whatever the substance is. It is fatal to humans, clearly. And... paralysing to angels.”

“That what happened to your, uh... host?” Josh asks shakily, shrinking back visibly when Cas glares back at him.

“No, Cas' vessel is long gone,” Dean tells him, frowning himself. “Maybe that's what made a difference with you,” he says, softly, nudging against Cas.

Cas glances up at him blankly. “I believe it was a combination of things. That Jimmy is no longer present. That you treated the wound. I believe both were contributing factors to my recovery.”

“And you're still not fully recovered?” Josh asks, pointlessly.

“If I were fully recovered I do not believe you would still be standing there,” Cas promises him, and Josh flinches yet again.

A twitch of a smile hits Dean's and Sam's faces, but they both tactfully look away when Josh looks to them for reassurance.

“So,” Josh presses on when there's no reassurance coming, his voice still full of doubt. “Not that I know much about angels. But... gotta be something pretty huge to bring down an angel like that, right?”

Cas is becoming more tired by the second, his weight pressing heavier into Dean's side.

Dean clears his throat. “There somewhere we can stay around here?” he asks, fixing Josh with a grim stare as he scans his memory for motels they might have passed on route.

“Got a spare room and a couch if you don't mind nothing too fancy,” Josh offers immediately, “You'll have to divvy it up however you want between you, but. You're welcome if you want it.”

There is a slight pause, where Sam and Dean look at each other in wordless conversation, before they both nod.

“I'll... take a look at this. See if I can do anything for the wound now,” Sam says, looking down at the woman again in doubt; on closer inspection the wound seems to have healed over itself completely, as though the black-green line really is now little more than a long-healed scar.

“I'll... help. If I can. Got some first aid stuff in the house we can try,” Josh offers, and Cas stops seeing an enemy in front of him, instead viewing a hunter; someone not so very different from Dean and Sam. He nods to show his gratitude, and lets Dean steer him away. Turning him around, walking him through an unfamiliar house, coaxing him up difficult stairs, and guiding him until he falls heavily on to a bed with an  _ oomph _ at the effort.

Cas can do nothing but mumble his thanks as he feels Dean lifting his feet up on to the bed, removing his shoes, and getting him as comfortable as is possible. He's barely aware of the brief conversation between Dean and Sam in the doorway that decides Sam's staying on the couch, and Dean's staying right beside Cas there on the bed.

Cas thinks about how much he likes that idea.

The very last thing he remembers before falling asleep is the weight of the bed dipping beside him as Dean settles, the feel of a blanket being thrown over him, and Dean reaching out tentatively to lace their fingers together against the mattress.

  
  
  



End file.
